Joseph "Joe" von Barish IV's Questionnaire

"The whole wide world is my home, dude. Like, why limit yourself to a decorated box that you slave away for half a lifetime to own when you could breathe the crisp morning air and shake the dew off of your hair in the great outdoors, free from the chains of unsatiating maximalism? Bailed from that years ago. My only leash is to Sammie and my pack. Don't mind being a benny all the time--it's totally a way of life, to meet people, to vibe with the ebbs and flows of humanity in all its diverseness and glory. Sometimes I hostel or hotel it, if I can busk enough cash or if that's what my fellowship of the bros want and their wallets are deep enough, but even then the feels are, like, sterile. Soulless. Be one with the people, man--invited into a home for a meal to talk about the trivals and depths of life--and to spread the ways of peace."

"Money... why is it always about money, dude? Like, I mean, we arrive with nothing and we leave with nothing, you know what I mean? So many hodads digging deep into the beach under the weight of the sun looking for gold, when the whole point is to dip into the waves and live. Sure, everyone needs food and some kinda shelter, but most have gone too far, man. Ever heard of a 'sand hole collapse'? Exactly what it sounds like, and I see it in the eyes of people on their way to work in the morning and when they come home at night. They dug so deep into the beach for so long that their soul got buried. Most don't know what happened, only that, like, something is totally missing."

Joe sits there in meditative silence for a long while before finally answering, eyes still closed, "I guess, like, it was when my mother died. She'd been fighting cancer for six years, sometimes winning and sometimes losing--before, like, wiping out." His surfer bro accent becomes milder as he instead becomes more refined and articulate. "She was ... she couldn't bear to see the family split--tensions between me and my father but also between the siblings. Favorites and the like on my father's end fueled that." He pauses in contemplation. "She, like, really knew me--totally. Fully. She also asked me to promise to get at least a Bachelor's degree, meaning she knew I was going to decline college otherwise. When she died, I knew that ... I did everything she wanted, and now that she was at peace, I could start on my own journey without disrupting hers."

"Joey. He's one of my bitchin' brothers from another mother--gives off, like, totally righteous vibes, literally. Passionate about his ministry as much as I am about mine; I respect it, dude. Don't necessarily agree with his methods though--sorta an aggro. One time I saw him persuade a girl that she had no agency--took the light right out of her eyes. Granted, she also took her finger off of, like, the trigger of the shotgun, but the cost was high, man. Everyone has the power to change their own life and the world around them--to ride the waves as they come however they desire and know how to. Did he tell her a lie that would drag her down to the bottom of the sea for the rest of her life?"

"Squirrel. He's a solo survivalist and a hodad in the spiritual ways.  He has a thing for hunting. All those weapons, and he knows how to use them mostly... Well, once he fumbled a grenade while we were in an old mine... And lately he's been totally obsessed with hunting a yeti. Hopefully 'hunting' as in getting to one and not, like, turning it into yeti clothes like the furs he wears... I dunno, dude, if he'll ever raise his gaze from the trail to the skies and realize the ways of peace on his own..."

"And then there was Chad. Went on our first job together and then he taught me how to strip in Vegas and I taught him how to survive under the stars. But, like, his light was as bright as mine, and there wasn't enough sky for two suns..." Joe wipes emerging tears away with his hand. "I hope my bro is, like, finding his way, you know?"

"The past is behind me, dude. It brought me here, to this point in my spiritual journey, and I thank the Divine for it." Eyes still closed, Joe proceeds with a seven-second box breathing pattern for about a minute. Finally, he looks the interviewer in the eyes while maintaining the cross-legged meditative position. "But if you must know, it was basically the impact zone--like, the place where the waves are breaking the hardest and where beginner surfers tend to get hurt. Back then I didn't know how to ride the waves of my father's verbal abuse and my mother's frozen silence--and there was no place to go, man. No shore. There were lulls, of course, but that didn't change that I was always swimming with the men in grey suits, literally and figuratively, you know?" His brow furrows and his surfer bro accent drops. "If you must know, my mother was a kind, gentle soul and my father ... was not. My siblings and I were raised to be kings and queens--really, tyrants just like my father was. Eventually I decided to chart my own course, and, like, here I am, on my journey."

"I met Sammie on the beaches of Los Angeles three years ago, as the setting sun painted the sky a million shades of orange and red. Like, it was love at first sight. Her perfect curves caught my eye, sure, but it was mostly how she stood there in the sand glimmering in the light that made me think, 'Wow, that one--she's going places'--places I wanted to go. A totally Divine appointment, dude. Given my lifestyle, my quiver's not all that full, you know; the girl I had wasn't even mine--was borrowing her from a good buddy of mine. So I asked around and learned that Sammie was this old snowbird's--a retired guy from Maine, Roger--and he's got some radical surfing moves! I earned the right to take her out on the waves after beating him in a one-on-one surfing competition, cleaning out his trailer, and helping him ask the lady three trailers down on a date. Sammie and I've been together ever since, through high tide and low tide, haven't we Sam?" Joe pats the magically levitating surfboard (that has a bullet hole in it) lovingly. The surfboard does not react.

"Fear? I dunno man. Maybe of dying before I spread the Ways of Peace--so, like, failing to fulfill my purpose and walk out my destiny, you know?" Joe goes from sitting to laying on the grassy knoll, arms crossed behind his head. He looks up at the clouds that slowly move across the bright blue sky. "All forms of life are Divine, totally righteous, dude. I'm gonna do everything I can to, like, not take the life of anything or anyone--even if it's trying to take my own life. Sometimes these jobs, like, they seems to incentivize killing." There is a long pause. "I don't want to go after the rad barrels, bro, to change the world for the better at the cost of my own soul. So, like, I guess one of my fears is losing myself to all this." There's a long pause. "Sometimes, on my journey, I get a little clucked, and I can tell it's happening because I get this recurring dream. I'm in a tailored Gucci suit seated next to my father in the C-Suite meeting space of General Dynamics--top floor overlooking the forests of Virginia. And I'm helping run the meeting on the latest breakthroughs from the R&D division on gun barrels for land use. And everyone's sitting there, smiling and chatting, like, sipping their coffee and eating their expensive pastries like their work doesn't kill people--like the notion of death is simply an abstraction, and the weapons they help to design and distribute are never used." Joe sits up and looks to the interviewer with determination. "I'm not going to be that son--never."

"I try not to get too attached to things, bro. Even these," Joe shows off his simple surfer necklace made of small white shells and then his matching bracelet (both which are Artifacts), "I had them for years and then these jobs unlocked something within them but, like, I'm not tied to them. They're gifts to be shared--not hoarded--just like the waves, the world, and the emerging potential within me, man." He looks into the distance thoughtfully before continuing. "I mean, like, I've already talked about Sammie... I guess my backpacking backpack and all its gear is my most prized possession aside from her. It lets me travel the world with my basic needs met: a shovel for a cathole, a tent for the rain, a filtration system to avoid water-based pathogens. I don't ask for much, dude, and sometimes I totally enjoy sleeping on the ground under the stars, you know? But this bag," Joe pats his sizeable backpack which has the sleeping bag rolled up small and affixed to the outside bottom of it, "I'm always home."